Discomfort Zone
by MiladyGirl
Summary: Blake is getting sick. Reid has a phobia of germs. Neither is very happy with current company.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**

So, I've only just gotten over a two-month-long stretch of bronchitis. I'm fine and dandy now, but of course my eagerly long-awaited recovery coincides with the season when EVERYONE is sick. I really, really don't want to catch anything so soon after, so I've developed a Spidey sense detecting sick people so I can avoid them, although it's not always possible, and when it's not possible, I sulk, throw daggers with my eyes, and hold my breath. LOL I was trapped in a car today with a not-healthy person and she told me my anxiety was almost offensive, which I honestly agree with. It's a wonder nobody has murdered me yet. LOL

I could see that whole thing play out with these two, though, so at least _something_ good came out of it. 😊

* * *

Blake had a sneaking suspicion that she was getting sick. It wouldn't be too much of a surprise; when James was home last week he had a real doozy of a cold, which he complained about almost endlessly.

"That's what you get if you go around kissing your patients," she had joked, but it seemed the joke was on her. She and James had done considerably more than just kissing over the weekend, but she hadn't been concerned in the slightest, she had complete confidence in her immune system sending those pesky viruses packing before they could do any harm. She never got sick.

 _Almost_ never, she corrected herself and suffocated a sudden sneeze with her sleeve.

"Bless you?" Reid said. It sounded like a question.

"Thanks. Sorry. I've been wanting to do that all day," she said. Her voice sounded a bit scratchy too, now that she thought about it, but she hoped Reid wouldn't notice.

"I know," he said. "I can always tell because you make this weird face when you have to sneeze and it won't come out."

"I don't make a weird face," Blake protested.

"Yes you do," Reid said flatly. " _That_ face."

Blake had been certain it wasn't visible on the outside how much she struggled to defuse the urge to do it again. She really didn't want to cause Reid's germaphobia to kick in; they had at least an hour's drive left before they were back at the station, she had a headache, a sore throat and what felt like a fever on the rise. So all in all, she felt pretty crappy as it was, but she would feel even worse if she unwillingly gave Reid an anxiety attack on top of that.

"I'm _not_ making a weird face and I'm _not_ … ah… going to sneeze again."

This time the feeling went away, but the soreness in her throat did not. Blake swallowed and winced in pain, hoping that Reid wasn't watching her at the moment. What she wouldn't do to be back at the hotel, take an Aspirin, get a hot cup of tea with lots of soothing honey… and sleep. Dear God, she felt like she could sleep for days. She had been running on fumes lately, battling one of her recurring bouts of insomnia, so when she stopped to think about it, it was no wonder she caught this. She was totally rundown.

"You're coming down with something, aren't you?" Reid asked, and he looked decidedly more apprehensive than he had when they first got into the car, which felt like about two hundred years ago or so.

"Nope, I'm fine. Just tired," she said and tried for a big smile. With any luck they'd be going home early tomorrow morning, and then she'd have the entire weekend to go into hiding and feel sorry for herself without anyone knowing. She really should be able to hide something as simple as a lousy head cold for less than 24 hours. How difficult could it be?

* * *

Increasingly difficult, Blake concluded about thirty minutes or so later when she was slapped in the face by the returning need to sneeze. It was clear her body was not willing to renegotiate its demands; the more she fought it, the more she needed to do it. She couldn't stop until she reached number four in the row. When she could finally take a long, shaky breath and open her eyes, she saw Reid pressed up against the passenger door, as far away from her as he could get. It would have been funny if it wasn't so sad.

"Bless you," he said in an oddly strangled voice. It took Blake a couple of seconds to figure out why. He was holding his breath.

"I'm sorry," she said, dropping the act. "I know it disturbs you."

"It's alright. You can't help it," Reid said, but he looked like he considered jumping out of the car while it was in motion. "The common cold is generally most contagious the days before the symptoms start showing, and while the infected person has a fever. But it's contagious as long as you show symptoms, and the risk of catching it is highest in enclosed spaces with close proximity to an infected person."

Blake nodded tiredly. So she was degraded to "the infected person" for the time being. Lovely.

Reid had taken a couple of shallow breaths while he was laying out the facts, but now he was back to holding his breath. Blake sighed.

"Reid, at least roll down the window so you can breathe," she said. Reid did so, and he somehow managed to simultaneously look apologetic, sympathetic, embarrassed _and_ repulsed.

"It's not that I don't feel sorry for you," he assured her. "I just…"

"I know," Blake said, although she didn't feel like being kind and understanding right now. "It's a phobia. It can't be reasoned with." She dipped her head and coughed, taking great care to cover her mouth but nevertheless noting Reid becoming rigid in his seat. "Still, you're making me feel really gross."

"JJ says the same thing," Reid replied unhappily. "I am getting better, though. In fact, I'm relatively relaxed."

Blake raised her eyebrows.

"If this is you relaxed, I'd hate to see you anxious."

"When I first started at the BAU, if someone was coming down with something, _I_ went home," Reid explained.

"I see, well, that's an improvement," Blake said, and tried to suppress a chill. The inflow of cold air was refreshing for a while, but now it was getting to her, reminding her that she was indeed running a fever. Probably not a high one, but enough that she'd feel achy and pathetic.

Reid fidgeted in his seat, torn between his anxiety and concern for his friend. He had seen Blake shivering in the draught and knew that if he were in her situation, he wouldn't be as calm or tolerant. Why was he making such a big deal of it, he'd either catch it or he wouldn't, and if he did, well… it was just a cold. It was annoying and unpleasant, but not lethal.

He slowly slid back into a normal sitting position instead of plastered up against the door, rolled up the window and turned up the heat instead. Blake gave him a surprised but very grateful smile.

"If you get me sick, I'm going to be a cry-baby," he warned. "That's not a threat, that's an unfortunate fact about me. I turn into a whiny five-year-old whenever I get a fever of 101. Sometimes it doesn't even have to get that high."

Blake chuckled, had to cough, and then chuckled again.

"Want to know a secret?" she asked. "So do I."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**

As per request, a part 2. 😊 I'm not much of a request writer, not because I don't want to please the crowds but because ideas and scenes tend to come when they want to, not necessarily when I want them to. Buuuuuut… here's something, at least. 😊

* * *

Blake had taken one sick day right when they got back to DC and had slept for almost fourteen hours that night. It seemed to be all she needed to kick the worst, but Reid was still anxious and unsettled around her, giving her a wide berth the past couple of days. And yesterday he was starting to come down with it himself. As much as Blake knew it wasn't her fault, she still felt guilty about it.

 _Ridiculously_ guilty, to be honest.

She groaned and hid her face behind her hands.

"Hey, Blake?" Morgan stood next to her desk. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said. "It's just… never mind."

"It's all about Reid, isn't it? I know he has a hard time dealing with germs. It's nothing personal, it could have been either one of us. JJ actually made him cry once, when they were in an elevator and she couldn't stop coughing."

"It's not funny," Blake said and lowered her hands.

"No, it's not," Morgan agreed. "But it's not your fault he has this issue, either."

"I know," she said. "I just hate to be the reason he's in distress."

Reid arrived, trudged through the room without saying hello to anyone, sat down by his desk, and looked for all the world as a moping teenager.

Morgan and Blake looked at each other.

"That's not distress. That's sulk," Morgan said.

"Great improvement," Blake said, voice filled with sarcasm. "Now he's angry instead. How comforting."

"Hey, kid," Morgan said. "You alright?"

"Leave me alone," Reid said, sounding painfully hoarse. "I can only breathe out of one nostril and I think I'm dying and it's Alex's fault."

Blake gave Morgan a glance that said: 'see what I'm dealing with here?'

"Sorry I caught a cold. I'll try not to do that again," she replied sourly.

"Next time at least keep it away from me," Reid said.

"You mean I should have told you when we left for the dump site that morning that my throat was sore and I might infect you with the plague if you got in the car with me?"

"Pretty much," Reid muttered and coughed.

Blake counted to ten and reminded herself that he _had_ warned her about his mood in advance. Although 'whiny five-year-old' didn't quite seem to accurately describe this demonstration of sullenness. This was more 'teenager forced to get up early in the morning'.

"Come on," she said and gestured for him to stand up.

"Why? My head feels like it's stuffed with cotton," Reid complained. "So if you'll excuse me I think I'll just sit here being miserable."

He demonstratively put a box of tissues on his desk, took one, and blew his nose.

"You can be miserable at home," Blake said. "I'll even make you chicken soup, although God knows I don't think you deserve it if you're going to act like that."

She had sounded a bit harsher than she intended, and Reid looked up at her with large eyes surrounded by dark circles. The annoyance she felt – which was largely fuelled by guilt – melted away when he looked at her like that. His bottom lip was trembling slightly.

"Come on," she said, a bit softer this time. "Please, let me take you home. I'm sorry I got you sick. I really didn't mean to."

"It's not your fault."

She smirked.

"Oh? I thought you just said it was."

The quivering of his bottom lip became more pronounced.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I'm so tired and I feel so bad."

"I know. Apology accepted," she said. "Now get your things so we can get going."

Reid turned to Morgan.

"You guys should probably get some Lysol and disinfect the bullpen and surrounding areas. Especially door handles. The majority of cold viruses can only survive outside of the human body for an hour, but in some cases, up to 24 hours, plus they stay airborne for…"

"Just go," Morgan chuckled. "He's all yours, Blake, have fun."

* * *

As they got into the car, Reid grabbed a tissue and sneezed into it twice, then whimpered like it hurt.

"I think I might actually die from this," he said.

"That's not very scientific," Blake replied. "Have you ever heard of anyone dying from the common cold?"

Reid opened his mouth to respond.

" _Not_ counting secondary infections like pneumonia," Blake caveated, and Reid closed his mouth again while thinking. She felt smug about finally stumping him, but Reid, as always, had an answer.

"While unlikely, if you sneeze or cough hard enough you _could_ end up having a stroke. It has happened."

"Oh my God Reid, you're thinking too much!" Blake said. Reid nodded, with an expression like a sad puppy. "Stop that," she said gently. "Just stop thinking for a while, okay?"

Reid nodded again without arguing, mostly to save his voice.

"Hey, it's alright," she said. "Let go for a while. You'll feel better after you get some sleep."

"I can't sleep," he said. "Nightmares."

"Yes," she said. "I get them too. Especially after the Replicator case. But your body still needs the sleep. With or without nightmares."

She touched his forehead with her palm, moving slowly to allow him to back away if he wanted to, but instead he closed his eyes and allowed himself to enjoy the cool, gentle touch.

"You feel warm."

"It's the body's natural response to an invasion…" Reid began, but Blake cut him off.

"Exactly. So just let your body do its job. I'll get you home, and I'll be here if you have nightmares. Okay?"

It was too tempting to pass up. Reid leaned back in the seat and tried to relax. He felt like crap. But at the same time, it felt good to have somebody look after you a bit.

"Sorry I didn't offer you more sympathy," he mumbled with his eyes closed.

"That's alright," Blake said. "I tend to prefer to be pathetic in private anyway. But next time try not to make me feel like Typhoid Mary."

Reid didn't answer. He was already asleep.


End file.
